


The Tooth Palace Incident

by Lindzzz



Series: The Evil Boyfriends Series [6]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: All drama, Evil Boyfriends, Fighting, JACK YOU SHOULD HAVE RUN WHILE YOU HAD THE CHANCE, Jack is not having with his shit, LAUNCHING THE DRAMA BOMB, M/M, Pitch is the emotional equivalent of a five year old, Pre-Slash, The sort of drama you only get with Pitch Black, Toothiana is a badass, so much drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-26 09:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindzzz/pseuds/Lindzzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jack finally says "no" to Pitch and it doesn't go over too well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No.

Jack really wants to trust Pitch.

And he does! Really! Pitch believes in him. Pitch saw him when no one else would, took him in, showed him how to get people’s attention. He didn’t have many believers but there were stories about him now. The name “Jack Frost” was becoming known and it was because of Pitch.

So he really wants to just trust Pitch and his plans.

But he’s having trouble following this current idea.

“The…teeth?” Jack adjusts the grip on his staff nervously. Pitch is practically vibrating with excitement and keeps pacing back and forth, hands gesturing wildly.

“The teeth, Jack! Oh it’s perfect! Absolutely perfect! I’m amazed I didn’t think of it sooner! This is our chance, our chance to make the whole WORLD see us! Both of us!”

Jack still isn’t following. It sounds great, really, but…

“…but why the teeth? I mean, they’re teeth!” If Jack thinks about it too much it’s actually pretty gross. Really. Teeth.

Pitch spins to face him, grin almost wide enough to split his face and eyes gleaming grey and gold. “Oh they’re more than that Jack! They’re memories.” He laughs in delight and sweeps in to put a hand on Jacks shoulder, voice lowering like he’s telling a delightful secret. “Every happy little memory from a child’s life is in those teeth the fairies collect. That’s why they take them! It’s all the perfect and delightful memories of childhood that stop them from being afraid!”

Jack tenses, partially from how searingly hot Pitch’s hand feels and partially because he’s liking the sound of this plan less and less. “And we’re….going to take them?”

Pitch’s grin somehow grows wider and he laughs again as he pulls away, leaving Jack’s shoulder feeling over-warm from where he had gripped it. 

“Exactly! WE take them and then there won’t be anything, ANYTHING, keeping their fears at bay! Oh it’s perfect! And with you I can do it! On my own I don’t have nearly enough Nightmares! It would take centuries to find enough. I’d probably have to try and find a new way to make more on my own. But together we can do this!”

Jack tightens his grip on his staff and frowns. He…doesn’t like this. He doesn’t really WANT to take away the happy memories of a bunch of kids. From what he’s seen that’s all some kids even have. He knows Pitch’s purpose is fear, to make people afraid of the dark. And Jack is alright with that! It’s what they do! Sometimes he’ll even help because making people jump is fun.

But Jack likes kids best when they’re laughing and playing in his snow. He likes to think that he made some of those happy memories. And he doesn’t have too many of his own, he doesn’t really want to take that away from kids.

Pitch is still talking, still almost dancing with excitement and petting his favorite nightmare as he laughs. Jack doesn’t want to take that away either. Pitch smiles a little more lately but it’s still not often, and Jack likes how Pitch looks when his shoulders aren’t bowed like they’re carrying the weight of millions.

But…

“Jack this is brilliant! The little brats will know us before the month is through! I couldn’t do this without you, we’re perfect! I’ll need a little time to prepare the Nightmares but we should be able to-“

Jack closes his eyes, grips his staff so hard he can feel the wood biting into his palm. He takes a deep breath and holds it for a second before he lets it out, slow and steady and calm.   
“No.”

There’s a pause, where Jack can only hear his own breathing and his own heartbeat. The silence is thick and suffocating and tense. Pitch is facing away from him, still as stone, the hand on the nose of his nightmare tensing as he turns his head just enough to look over his shoulder. The sharp shadows of his face are deeper than usual and his eye gleams silver as it focuses on Jack.

“No what, Jack?”

Jack braces himself and takes another slow breath, it feels like there’s not enough air in the room and the shadows are growing darker. He doesn’t look down because he knows they’re all creeping toward him, sliding and curling to focus on where he’s standing.

“No. I’m not going to do it. I won’t help you. Not this time.”

There’s a low hissing filling the air as Pitch calmly pulls away from the Nightmare to face Jack. His face is carefully blank but his eyes are burning as he slowly stalks towards him. “This is our chance, Jack. You can’t back away now. Not after all this time.”

Jack clenches his jaw, stands his ground, and refuses to let the growing shadows intimidate him. “I won’t do it Pitch! I’m not going to take away the memories of a bunch of kids! I don’t care if it’ll help us I won’t do it!”

The hissing is suddenly a shrieking in the air and the Pitch’s face breaks, distorting in rage. All the careful calm is gone as he bares razor teeth and his eyes turn into two glowing points of brimstone in pits of black. Jack doesn’t see the hand that whips out to grabs his throat and he finds himself hoisted up like a rag, gasping for air.

“After all I’ve done for you!? THIS is your answer! I MADE you what you are! I saw you when no one else would! I BELIEVE in you Jack!” Jack chokes and scrambles desperately at Pitch’s arm before he remembers his staff and swings wildly. There’s a sharp crack and he falls hard to the ground, wincing on impact.

“I won’t do it Pitch! I want to trust you but I can’t do this!” He pulls himself up and looks up into an endless chasm of roiling shadow. Pitch’s voice is deafening and Jack tries to cover his ears against the harsh shrieking crash of it coming from every angle.

“TRUST!? TRUST! WE WERE IN THIS TOGETHER BOY! YOU AND ME! I GIVE YOU THIS CHANCE FOR US TO TAKE THE WORLD AND YOU TELL ME NO!? YOU CAN GO BACK TO BEING ALONE! GO BACK TO YOUR PALE, SAD, PATHETIC EXISTENCE TRYING TO MAKE PEOPLE SEE YOUR LITTLE SNOWBALLS AND FLURRIES!”

“Pitch we were doing fine! We were getting believers again! We don’t have to throw everything into some stupid-“

“STUPID?” Pitch dives in at him, voice lowering back down to a hiss as claws dig into Jacks clothes from all sides. “Fine!? You don’t understand the meaning of belief! You think a couple people telling hushed stories around the fire is fine!? Are you really satisfied with the little songs they make about you!? You’re a fool, Jack! And you haven’t even begun to know the meaning of nightmares! You won’t be able to THINK when I’m done with your mind!”

“I’m not afraid of you!” 

Everything goes quiet again. Pitch freezes, face melting back into his features and the rage fades into something more guarded. His hands slowly unclench from where they were fisted in Jack’s shirt and Pitch carefully eases away, eyes flicking over Jack like he’s something new and dangerous.

“No…” He says softly “No you’re not. Not really, anyway.” He stands and carefully straightens out his robe and gives Jack a long, searching look before turning away.

“Get out, Jack.”

Jack blinks at him, staring in disbelief at the retreating form. “What? You can’t just-“

“I said get out! I don’t need your help for this!” Pitch goes back to his Nightmare and runs a hand along her neck, pointedly looking at only her. “I don’t need YOU for anything!”

Jack finds his mouth falling open because really? Pitch is actually going to go through with this still... “You’re going to try? You said you couldn’t do it on your own!”

“I lied!” Pitch snaps. “If you really think YOU could make that big of a difference in my plans then you’re more stupid than I thought! Really, what would you do? Throw a snowball at Toothiana? Honestly it’s better this way without your nagging distracting me.”

Jack snorts. “You’re an idiot. Fine. I’m leaving then. Just don’t expect to see me again if you do this.”

“That’s my intention.” Pitch hisses.

There’s something hot and sick and roiling clenching up inside Jack. He stands for a few moments longer, fighting it down and staring at Pitch’s back, willing him to turn around and FACE him. But Pitch continues to ignore him and Jack deflates, huffing out a short puff of frost.

“Yeah. Whatever.” He mutters, calling the wind around him and letting it pull him away. There are some things he needs to do if Pitch is actually going to go for this stupid plan.

He flies out, and doesn’t see Pitch whip around to stare at him as he leaves.

\------------------------------

“Just come HERE you little bug!”

This may not have been Jack’s best idea. It had seemed straight forward enough! He didn’t know where the Tooth Fairy’s home was so all he had to do was wait around at night, catch one of the little helper fairies and get one of THEM to tell him.

He hadn’t anticipated how FAST the tiny things were.

“Look I’m sorry about using you guys as target practice before but that’s in the past right?! I’m not going to hurt you I promise ok I just need to- WOAH!” The little creature he’d been chasing had decided that she was tired of this game and apparently figured it’d be more fun to try and peck out Jack’s eyes.

“Stop that! I said I was sorry! Ow! Hey!” He has to dodge the sharp beak and is pretty sure that the angry squeaks translate into something just rude. “Stop Ok!? I just have a question! Would you just-“  
Jack flails at her and actually manages to grab a hold, gripping the tiny body before she can fly off.

“HAH! Got ya! Aahhh no stop-“ The air is filled with angry shrieking and Jack has to stop himself from dropping her to put his hands over his ears. How can such a tiny thing make that much NOISE. The fairy only gets louder when he tries to shush her, squealing out into the night like she’s trying to get something’s attention.

“Look would you SHUSH!? Oh my God I won’t be able to hear for a week! I just need to ask you something! It’s not like anything is going to hear you any-OOF.”

Judging by the sudden mass slamming into his side, he was wrong. He barely had time to register the whistling in the air before something large and warm sends him tumbling out of the sky.

He finds his staff suddenly yanked out of reach as he goes down and ends up crashing into a roof hard enough that he just lays there groaning. He’s still trying to get air back into his lungs when something lands heavy on his chest, his staff is slammed down next to his head, and a gleaming wicked golden blade is held up against his throat.

“What do you think you’re doing with my fairies?” Jack coughs and stares up at a pair of jewel-like, glaring eyes. At any other time he’d actually admire how outright PRETTY the Tooth Fairy is. She’s all colors and feathers and large, bright eyes and dainty lacy wings.

Right now he is paying far more attention to the sword at his neck.

“Look-“ he wheezes. He doesn’t get to continue because she suddenly narrows her eyes and the blade presses a little into his skin.

“I recognize you…you’re that boy who’s been hanging around Pitch Black.” She crouches where she’s standing on his chest and bares her teeth, the feathers on her head flaring out around her delicate features. “What are you trying to do with my girls?”

“Nothing!” Jack chokes out, still trying to keep his eyes at the sword. “Nothing! Look, I’m not helping Pitch with anything right now! I was trying to find you and thought that the little bu- the fairies would be able to help!”

“And you thought they’d help you if you just grabbed one?”

“Well I had tried asking nicely! And she tried to take my eyes out!” He shoots a quick look at the fairy who’s chattering angrily at him from behind Toothiana’s shoulder. “Yeah? Well right back at you, bug!”

Tooth glances over at the fairy and she goes quiet with a final angry squeak at Jack. “Why were you trying to find me? Your mentor and I aren’t exactly on the best terms.”

“Because he’s being dumb ok? I was trying to find you to warn you that he’s got this big scheme in his head to take all the teeth!” That’s got her attention. The feathers all over her body ruffle and the hand on her sword clenches.

“The teeth? Why does he want the teeth?”

“Because he’s stupid? He was going on about taking away the memories that keep kids from being afraid and was all convinced that this would put him back in power or something! So I came to warn you!”

She regards him carefully and the sword pulls away just slightly, though it’s still trained on his throat. “You’re Pitch’s lackey, why are you warning me of anything that he does?”

“Ok first of all, partner, not lackey. And I don’t like it ok? I don’t want to help with anything that would hurt a bunch of kids like taking their good memories away! I told him I wanted nothing to do with it and uh…well he kicked me out but then I came to try and find you. Which I did, I guess.”

She narrows her eyes and looks him over for a moment before slowly lifting off of him and taking her sword back. She still keeps a tight grip on his staff though and is looking at him suspiciously.

“You’re…worried about the kids?”

Jack carefully pushes himself up onto his elbows, rubbing a hand over the slight nic she left on his neck. “I like kids. “ He says carefully. “I mean, I don’t want to hurt any of them. I help Pitch with some of his frights because scaring doesn’t really hurt anything. Sometimes it helps them be afraid and stay away from what WILL hurt them. And I like Pitch, but I can’t let him do this.”

The fairy watches him push himself up and frowns in thought for a few seconds. She finally holds his staff out to him saying, “Don’t make me regret this. What’s your name anyway?”

“Jack.” He sighs in relief when his hand touches the cold wood again and frost dances over the old grooves. “I’m uh, Jack Frost.”

She suddenly smiles and it’s like her entire body lights up. “Well Jack, you can call me Tooth. And I’m not really sure I should, but I’m going to trust you on this.”

He grins back, it’s hard not to in the face of all that color and light. One of the fairies that have gathered around Tooth makes a weird squealing noise and…faints? The others crowd in close around him with excited chirps.

“Girls, please.” Tooth sighs, though she’s eyeing Jack’s mouth like a shark and it’s getting unnerving. “So you’ll really help me stop Pitch then?”

“I’m…” Jack pauses and licks his lips, “Look I’m not switching sides or anything ok? I just don’t like what he’s doing and maybe…I don’t know I still hope I can talk some sense into him.”

Tooth snorts in disbelief and shrugs with a tired smile at him. “We’ve tried that Jack, but you can have a go at it if you really must. Come on.”

Jack hesitates for just a moment and then flies up to where she’s hovering. “This is really going to get ugly.”

She just smiles a little sadly at him and leads him away, swords gripped in her delicate hands.

Jack isn’t quite sure if this plan is any smarter than Pitch’s, but he has to do SOMETHING.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch wouldn't admit it to anyone but himself. But this was not his best plan.

It was, Pitch would only admit to himself, not his best plan.

 

He grits his teeth as he paces one of the many gleaming balconies of the Tooth Palace. Getting here had gone so smoothly that he almost thought that fortune was on his side for once. The Queen had been called away for some reason and it had been all too easy to sweep the little fairies out of the way and clear the palace.

 

Now though, he found himself alone, trying to figure out how to gather the teeth, while his Nightmares swirled around the place, keeping the swarms of shrieking fairies out.

 

If Jack were here...

 

Pitch clenches his jaw and fists his hands until he can feel his bones creaking. He refuses think about that! He already allowed Frost to push him into acting rashly. Jack abandoned him. That was that. The only thing that changed was his current plan.

Which he really did need more Nightmares for.

He looks out at where his small herd is circling the palace and hisses under his breath when his eyes move to the massive tower lined with small shining boxes. This, he thinks, as he slips into a nearby shadow and steps out on the central tower, was probably the stupidest thing he had ever done.

Well, the execution of it anyway, the original plan was perfect. Flawless. It would have gone splendidly if-

But he wasn’t thinking about that.

He storms down the walkway that wraps around the tower, eyeing the endless little doors with the bright smiling faces of countless children and their wonderful, bright, idiotic memories. He only has a limited time before the mother hen returns and he’s not nearly strong enough to try and defeat her yet.

 

If he hadn’t been so caught up in his own rage...if he had more Nightmares...

If he had Jack...

Pitch snarls, and clenches his hands. That doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s now stuck trying to figure out how to get several billion boxes of teeth out on his own while his Nightmares fend off an increasingly loud swarm of sharp-beaked fairies. He could just leave, but at this point he feels like he has to at least TRY something.

He continues walking up the spiral and glowering at the teeth, shadows hissing around him. He needs to calm down, there are already a couple of Nightmares who've paused to eye him with too much interest.

He stops to get himself under control, runs his hands back through his hair and glares at the wall of faces like this is entirely their fault. Since when were there so many children? When were the humans allowed to BREED this much?

He lets out a low growl as his hands fist in his hair as he continues to stare at the endless smiling faces. He’s ready to just pull out his scythe and go to town on the whole damn place when one of the faces catches his eye. It makes him go rigid and he has to force himself to move towards it, hands slowly lowering as he fixates on the simple image.

The colors are wrong, the hair and eyes are a dark, plain brown and skin a healthy glowing pink. 

But there’s that smile. He’d recognize that smile anywhere. Cocky and mischievous and paired with gleaming eyes.

Pitch stands in front of it for far longer than he should. His hands twitch at his sides.

He’s unaware that he’s even reaching for the little door until he’s already opening it and pulling the small glittering container out.

He turns it carefully in his hands, fingers brushing over the jeweled top and running along the sides. He suddenly, desperately, wants to open it. Wants to see what’s inside and wants to know for sure that it’s who he thinks it is. He knows that only a fairy or the owner of the teeth can open it, but he still feels it over, half hoping that he’ll find some seam or latch.

His thumb runs across a ridge, a change from the smooth carvings and he slowly turns the box. There’s an engraving on the back and he breathes out slowly through his teeth when he reads it.

Jackson Overland Frost.

His fingers tighten on the box and he’s not sure if he wants to throw it or put it back or...

He rubs his thumb over the name as he thinks. These are Jack’s memories. He had actually been someone before. What had happened? Why would the Old Man wipe the boy’s mind if he had had a past? Pitch simply was, he was fear and fear had no need for history. Fear simply existed, and so had Pitch. But Jack...

He glances at the moon, bright and staring down at him as always. “Sometimes, you are far more cruel than I could ever hope to be, old friend.”

He pulls the box into the shadows of his robes, tucks it quietly next to a locket that he’ll never open.

His hands twitch again, he’s not quite sure what to do with them now so he folds them behind his back again, though he can’t find the old rage. He’s just...tired now. It’s a familiar, sinking feeling that makes him want to find a dark, deep shadow somewhere small and curl up in it, lose himself in someone else’s bad dream.

Really, he should have known this would happen. He had known it, at first. Jack was temporary, Jack would leave or Pitch would get rid of him and the distraction would be over. It had been foolish to believe otherwise, however briefly.

 

And just like that the anger rushes back, quieter now, coiling deep in his chest and making everything feel tight and clamped. He bares his teeth, reminds himself that he’s not thinking about that.

He’s here for a purpose and the boy was no longer here to distract him. Jack Frost wasn’t worth wasting his thoughts on.

So he reaches for another box, still not sure what his plan is, when there’s a faint whistling in the air.

“Ah, so there’s the little bird.” He smiles, pulls the shadows in close and lets them build around him. He may not be ready for her but he’s certainly not going down without style. He’s about to turn to laugh in her face when he’s nearly knocked to the side by a bright burst.

“What-?” He manages to recover before he hits the ground and looks up.

Ice, there’s ice covering up the painted door he was reaching for. 

And he can’t breathe, can’t turn around fast enough. He almost falls again in his haste to look, to see if-

“Jack...”

It’s Jack.

Jack, high above him, staring down with his staff still held in front of him from the blast of ice he had sent.

That he had sent at Pitch.

There’s Jack and he’s here and he shouldn’t be here because he LEFT. 

But he’s here and flying next to Toothiana.

He’s with her.

Against Pitch.

Jack is with Toothiana and they’re both coming for him. Both gripping their weapons with faces drawn and determined and Jack it’s Jack Jack is here and he’s with HER and he left he can’t be here!

Pitch has to take a shaking step back, has to stare because he can’t understand. Jack is here.

Jack is with her.

Jack is with them. He left Pitch and then went and chose THEM.

The hissing starts quiet, grows steadily and quickly until he’s screaming Jack’s name, scythe in his hand before he can even think about drawing it.

Jack is with Tooth.

And Pitch is going to watch him bleed and scream.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch and Jack have a bit of a chit chat. Violently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Auuugh I'm sorry this took so long guys. I hit a big block because I have...a lot of trouble with non-silly drama.

Jack's never seen him like this.

Pitch is hardly recognizable now, there’s nothing but a mass of ink black and thousands of sharp-toothed mouths screaming his name, yellow eyes burning through black and writhing in the shadows that hint at other creatures clawing and squirming. Jack has seen Pitch turn into a mass of shadow before; he’s watched him melt into something amorphous and swirling and dark. 

But this is different. It has weight and form in a way that Pitch’s normal shadow never did. It has a density and a thickness in places that hint at a tall slim form that shifts with every slide of shadow. Jack can’t even look at it for too long without his eyes hurting because he can’t figure out HOW he’s seeing the shift. There is no lighter or darker, there’s just blackness, eyes, and more blackness.

"This was such a bad idea." He says weakly. Even Tooth looks horrified and Jack had thought she would be used to displays like this.

"Jack, stay back here. You've done enough, let me take care of this." She looks so earnest and worried, and Jack feels something in his chest tighten and twist at the look in her eyes. 

He’s almost tempted, for a heartbeat, to nod and agree to whatever she says. To let her take over and then go wherever she wants. She has no reason to look at him like that, they only just met and she was holding a sword to his throat not two hours ago.

He swallows thickly and can’t look away from how worried she is about him. He doesn’t know what to even BEGIN to think about it.

"You've been really nice to me...I don't get it." She smiles then and reaches for him, putting a small hand on his shoulder.

"You're not a bad guy Jack! You don't-"

A scream tears the air like nails over stone and they both yank away to cover their ears.

Pitch's shadows are shrinking in, sliding over bright stone and slithering up into something condensed and solid until he's standing in his own form again. 

Jack has a feeling that this isn't a sign that Pitch has calmed down. Every bit of him is solid black except for the acid yellow of his eyes gleaming right at Jack.

He's also standing stone still, scythe gripped tight in one hand, and that isn't normal. Pitch is movement and nonstop pacing and hand waving and barely contained energy. But now he looks like something carved from flat black rock. It’s not natural and Jack knows that it is not good; so, so not good.

The last echoes of the scream die out and what’s left is...nothing. There’s no sound but the wind in Jack’s ears and the whispering of the swarming Nightmares that are all that stand between him and Pitch. It’s a clawing, heavy silence that feels like nails raking up Jack’s spine and heat blasting against his face. 

His breath stops for a second where he SWEARS he can feel red hot blades sliding over his skin and drawing blood from a thousand points.

He tightens the grip on his staff, buries himself in the feel of the cold against his hands until the heat on his flesh goes away and he can breathe again.

“I think I preferred the screaming...” He says with a shaky laugh.

He can’t look away though. Honestly he never would have thought that Pitch would react like this. He expected the screaming, expected more of the sort of yelling and abuse he got back when this all started. Jack came here expecting Pitch to either be throwing a fit or to have already written him off as not worth it.

But Pitch isn’t even looking at Tooth, he isn’t looking at the wall of teeth he came here for, he’s still and quiet and nothing but focused rage all aimed at Jack.

And Jack is more confused by that than he was by Tooth’s concern.

His eyes glance over to where Tooth is, and she looks far less uncertain than he feels. Her face is pale, but her feathers are all but glowing and her sword gleams in the light as she adjusts her grip.

She’s radiant in her rage, strong and confident in her belief. Jack can’t understand that, he can’t wrap his head around someone so believed in that they could form an entire palace like this from their belief. Someone so believed in and confident that they don’t even flinch in front of something like Pitch.

But even though it confuses him, Pitch’s rage is something he can understand. It’s a desperate cry and scream against loneliness that sounds like the way the winter wind would howl when Jack tried to block out the sounds of the world. 

The bright golden flash of Tooth’s blade catches his eye again and he stares at it. All she sees is an interloper; maybe assumes that Pitch is just up to some scheme to rule the world again. 

She couldn’t understand that crushing feeling that comes when someone phases through you. She never had her insides torn out by a child who couldn’t see her.

She would dive in with her brilliant sword and blinding belief and not understand anything.

She must feel his gaze because she glances over, catches his eye and gives him an encouraging smile.

"Don't worry Jack, I can take care of this.” He just stares wide eyed. He knows that. He knows she’ll take care of it. That’s kind of the problem. 

He grips his staff tight and swallows, not knowing what to do or what to say and Tooth must see something in his face because her smile softens into something gentle and comforting. “I just want to say...thanks. You did the right thing, Jack."

He feels sick and something like guilt twists in his chest. He knows he did the right thing, but he doesn't want to see her smiling at him like that right now.  
Wood creaks under his hands as he changes his grip just slightly. "Yeah...I...um...I'm sorry."

She frowns, feathers in her forehead ruffling in confusion and he uses that moment to swing with all his might. The staff doesn’t hit her but the wind it makes slams into her like a wall, sending her tumbling through the air with a startled cry.

Jack winces but doesn’t give her time to recover and come zipping back with that sword of hers. He grits his teeth and concentrates, pushing the wind into a whirling wall that keeps her out where she is now. He can hear faint traces of her enraged yelling over the howling of the air.

"Sorry!" He says again, even though there's no chance she can hear him, "I just...I need to do something and you're there with that sword! It would be distracting!"

The wind may be whipping in his ears but he still catches the shift in the underlying silence. It dulls, becomes slightly less dangerous and menacing. 

Jack turns and jumps when he sees that the Nightmares have stopped their swarming and are now watching him with interest as they drift. Down below, Pitch has lightened to his normal self, eyes still on Jack, though now they’re narrowed into a perplexed frown.

Jack drifts down slowly, eyeing the scythe while Pitch eyes him. After all the tension and drama before everything just seems...awkward now. He lands carefully a little distance from where Pitch is, and they consider each other for a long moment.

"Have you changed your mind?" Pitch finally asks. He sounds cautious and he looks...not quite hopeful, but something very close to it. Jack feels another guilty twist at how earnest Pitch looks, he really wants people to stop looking at him with so much expectation.

"No...I just wante-" he never gets to say WHAT he wanted because he has to duck the scythe that comes slicing towards his midsection. Apparently Pitch only heard the ‘no’ part and disregarded anything else.

“Pitch! Sto-AH!” He goes rolling when the wicked point of the long blade buries itself into the ground where he was crouched. Pitch doesn’t even try to pull it from the stone and just lets it fade into shadow again as he gathers thick darkness into his palms.

“You should have just stayed away Jack!” He snarls, throwing something sharp and infinitely black at Jack, who smacks it away with his staff as he jumps back. “You made your choice and should have known better than to show your face here!”

Jack huffs in irritation as he dodges another projectile. “I didn’t choose anything! I-” He yelps when one of Pitch’s throws nearly takes off his head and that is IT!

Ice crackles along wood and Jack yells when he launches at Pitch, managing to knock him back a few paces with a blast that leaves the air around them filled with powdered ice. Pitch bounces back almost immediately, the shadows swirling around him and flying towards Jack.

“We could have had this!” He yells, pulling the scythe out again when Jack manages to dodge all of his shadows. “We could have had the world and you DARE come back here after telling me no!? You dared to come back with her and think I would just chit chat with you!?”

Jack flies in every direction, throwing ice and wind at Pitch while knocking the wide blade aside with his staff. “I didn’t choose anything! I didn’t choose them and I didn’t choose to leave! But I’m not going to just sit around while you ruin everything!”

“I’m doing what I have to do! I’ll do what it takes to survive!” Pitch leaps at him and Jack has to throw up his staff to block the scythe coming down on him. He thinks, almost hysterically, that it’s a small miracle that the wood didn’t snap under the weight. Pitch snarls and bears down on him, eyes blazing. “You wouldn’t understand, you simple minded child! You have no idea what it’s like!”

Jack snarls back at him, nearly shaking in frustration as he hollers back. “Yes I do! You old moron!” He finally throws Pitch off and leaps into the air, yelling wordlessly as he blasts ice at him as hard as he can. He actually manages a hit this time and pins Pitch to the tower with a thick coat of ice over one of his hands. 

Jack lands down on the walkway again, hands balling into fists as he fights the urge to go over and just grab Pitch by the shoulders and shake him until he stops being an idiot. “I understand! I know why you’re doing this but that doesn’t mean I agree with it!”

Pitch bares his teeth, trying to tug his hand away, “You can’t possibly have an idea-”

“It’s like they’re ripping my insides out! Every time someone walks through me it’s like they’ve punched through and left me hollow and everything is hot and empty because they took it all with them!” He can feel himself shaking again, breath catching in his throat because he can FEEL it. He can’t think of that feeling without it sinking in and digging his chest out. He can feel the rage trickling away in the wake of that memory. 

“And they always just...keep walking. They smile or laugh or keep doing whatever they were doing while you try to figure out where your lungs went and try to get your heart to start beating again.”

Pitch goes completely still again, eyes wide as he stares at Jack with something akin to horror. “You-”

“That’s one of my earliest memories.” Jack continues, he doesn’t even want to keep talking but can’t stop now. “I...I had gone to a village because I wanted to, I don’t know, show off. I didn’t know who I was really but I somehow knew that people would like my frost and my snow. And I went to ask a little kid where I was and they...they just tore right through me. No one could see me or hear me no matter how much I yelled at them.”

He has to stop and take a deep breath, he needs to stop entirely. Pitch is silent still and that is never a good sign. But it’s like something got ripped open and Jack can’t stop everything from flooding out now. “And you keep trying...you keep trying as hard as you can to make them see you. Even if it never works you can’t stop trying and you just...pull all the stops. Make things amazing and loud and wonderful and all but write your name in front of them and nothing ever works. And sometimes all you can do is scream in front of them but that doesn’t work either. All it does is make more wind and they’ll just go right through laughing about how cold it is. It didn’t matter what I did, no one saw me.”

Jack can feel his hands shaking and grips his staff tighter to try and make it stop. Pitch looks like he’s being gutted. He looks raw and torn open and he shouldn’t look like that. It’s like Jack is torturing him. But still hangs on to every word.

“You saw me though.” Jack says quietly. “I mean, you didn’t pay too much attention to me. But you talked to me. You gave me more than anyone else ever had.” He looks down at his staff, digs his nails nervously into the grooves so he doesn’t have to see Pitch’s face.

“I didn’t get why you let me follow you around all the time. I get it now though. I got it when I saw someone walk through you and your face looked the same way I always felt. You were right I guess, you never do get used to it.”

“And you were right earlier,” Jack adds, tensing and frowning down at the grooves of his staff, not at Pitch though. Pitch is still being too quiet and Jack doesn’t want to look at him. “I don’t know what real belief feels like. But some kids see me now. Some of them tell stories about me and it’s because you helped me. It’s not the power you had, it’s not the world believing in you. But you helped me get just a little bit of that. And you don’t have any of that either now.”

He does look up then and Pitch is...deflated. He’s leaning back against the wall and seems to have forgotten about his hand trapped under the ice. Pitch is looking at Jack like he’s something new and terrible that he can’t take his eyes away from.

Jack makes himself look Pitch in the eyes, grips his staff tight in one shaking hand while he stares him down. “And it’s because of stuff like this that you don’t have that anymore. You keep trying for big things like this because you think you have to rule everything or have nothing! But they’re just going to knock you down lower than you are now if you do this! Even if you did somehow get the power to beat them the Old Man would probably just make more like he’s done before! You said it yourself! Every time you almost get your power back he just calls a new Guardian to go against you!”

Pitch looks away first, slowly letting out a tight sigh as he looks over at his pinned hand. Jack tenses as Pitch’s shadows gather in and break the ice but Pitch only pulls away and carefully rubs the numbness away with his other hand while he frowns.

“You would have me do nothing then?” He finally says, still looking down at his hands. “I’m far past that Jack. You have your belief, however small, but imagine that being taken from you. Slow enough that you wouldn’t notice at first but it doesn’t end. It’s a thin thread that’s unraveling faster than you can keep track of. I’m close to the end of my thread and I…I fear oblivion if I don’t do something to get it back quickly. I don’t have the time to just hope things will become better.” He looks up then, eyes hard, “Hope is not what I do.”

Jack takes a hesitant step towards him, “I’m not saying you have to do nothing! But you said earlier, that you were willing to wait centuries to get enough Nightmares to try and steal all the teeth. Why can’t you just…work with that time differently? You think you have to get it all back now but the world doesn’t work on huge terrors anymore. They think different, people have less room for magic now. You can work on smaller stuff! Learn how people fear in the little things and work yourself into them! You’ve started doing that so keep going! There are already new stories about us. It’s small and not what you had but it’s something! And you can build on that! You don’t have to take it all at once Pitch!”

Pitch’s shoulders sag and he looks away again, absently rubbing his hands together still. “I don’t know if I can do that, Jack.”

“Let me help! I mean, I figured out that it was the small things that worked, not the screaming in faces.” He gives a small, hesitant smile, “Maybe I could show you a few tricks.”

Pitch’s head jerks up to fix an odd stare on Jack and his hands clench. Jack can’t even begin to read his expression, it’s something stark and intense and hungry and torn. They both stay like that for a few tense heartbeats and Jack takes another careful step, stopping when Pitch takes a quick step back.

“Pitch, c’mon, I really think-“ Pitch flinches like he’s been struck and throws a hand up to silence him, looking away with a frown again. Jack grips his staff tight, feeling jittery and out of place in his own skin.   
He’s not used to Pitch being this quiet, this unreadable and closed off. It’s frustrating and makes Jack want to just throw something at him to make him react somehow.

He glowers and goes to take another step, but he’s stopped by the rushing and screaming of Nightmares this time. They almost knock him from his feet as they rush past him to their master. Swirling around him into a dense cloud of shadow and it takes Jack a few seconds to realize what’s going on. He nearly does actually throw his staff then.

“Hey! You can’t just leave!” Pitch turns, gives Jack a long look over his shoulder, then grabs the mane of one of the Nightmares. The shadow moves in around him, whipping him away into the swarm. Before Jack can say anything they fly up into the air, dwindling away into a wisp of darkness while he stares in disbelief.

Jack stares up into where they vanished for several long moments in shock, mouth opening and closing as he tries to wrap his head around that nonsense.

“I can’t believe he just did that!” He finally chucks his staff, wishing he had Pitch’s head back here so he could bash it instead. “That stupid dramatic old moron!”

“Jack!” He jumps nearly a foot in the air and whips around, apparently he’d gotten distracted enough to forget to keep the wind going. Tooth is racing towards him, looking harried and clutching her sword. “Jack what did you do? Are you alright?”

“No!” He yells at first, before thinking about it, “I mean, yes! I’m fine! I don’t know what I did ok?!” He storms over to his staff and snatches it up again, running is hands over the wood. He really doesn’t want to talk to Toothiana, he wants to make a couple blizzards and maybe an ice storm. Preferably in some idiot’s dark and dank hole of stupid.

“Jack, what happened here? Why did you-“

“Look!” He interrupts, “I don’t want to talk right now ok? I mean, thanks for taking me here and I’m sorry for hitting you but you were all crazy with the sword! It was a lot of fun, except for the part where it really wasn’t at all! That was probably the most-“ He grabs at his hair, taking a deep breath and calming a little, “-exhausting thing I’ve been through actually. And I’m still not sure what happened. So yeah, thanks and all that. I gotta go.”

“Jack!” She’s angry now but the wind blocks her voice as he calls it to him. He wonders if he should say ‘bye’ but decides against it. Really he’s done with talking for the next week at least. That was way too much talking. He never wanted to talk that much ever. Talking was supposed to be Pitch’s thing.

The wind drowns out her demanding yelling as he soars up and away from the entire mess he and Pitch left.

There was no way he was going to let that idiot get away so easily.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All those years alone in the dark Pitch had thought, "No one else knows what this feels like."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now here is the longest thing I have ever written. Clocking in at nearly 5000 words. Dang.
> 
> Also "Onyx" came from a previous commenter who said that apparently in the script Pitch had a name for his FAVORITE horse who was around him all the time, and that name was Onyx. And I thought that was such a precious and stupid thing because seriously Pitch that is a terrible name. So I had to include her.

Pitch loses himself in rushing air and the whispers of the Nightmares. He sinks deep into the fear and anxiety they leave in their wake; feels the unease of others drown his own thoughts out. The journey back home is far more peaceful this way.

He’s absorbed by fear, listening to the secrets his beauties tells him as they slide along shadow into the winding tunnels that lead home. The herd is restless, caught up in the excitement and high emotion of the day and they swarm around him in an excited cloud as they emerge into the expansive caverns. He lets them brush against his hands and murmur voiceless in his ear, though he keeps one hand firmly on the largest mare.

He doesn’t like to say that he picks favorites, but Onyx was always...special to him.

Eventually the others disperse to find their victims but he keeps Onyx close, buries his fingers into the shifting spines of the war horse's mane and focuses on her special brand of fear. She always created the most subtle and beautiful horrors. Hers are the soft sighs of the night and quiet fears that keep mortals awake and wide-eyed in terror of something they can never explain. If he listens to them then he can drown everything else out, he can ignore the thoughts clamoring about in his head.

There is, however, a price for his attachment. She knows his fear far, far more deeply and intimately than anything else. The others see his terrors, his sharp sudden stabs of anxiety. But she sees the deeper scars. Onyx has always been able to find the one thread that would undo him and pull it just so. 

So it’s only a matter of time until she snorts and shifts, twisting her neck to look at him. As soon as her eyes fix on him Jack’s words are piling up in his mind.

He sucks in a sharp breath, fingers digging into her neck. His insides are being wrenched and twisted and he wants to pull away, wants to cover his ears and deny the words that keep echoing without end-

_Every time someone walks through me it’s like they’ve punched through and left me hollow and everything is hot and empty because they took it all with them!_

His breath catches and his lungs seize up and he doesn't want to hear this he can't hear this not again-

_And you keep trying...you keep trying as hard as you can to make them see you. Even if it never works you can’t stop trying._

“Stop...” He croaks out, feeling his fingers begin to shake.

_They smile or laugh or keep doing whatever they were doing while you try to figure out where your lungs went and try to get your heart to start beating again._

He does cover his ears then, fingers clenching into his hair as he hunches over Onyx’s neck. He has to block it has to make it STOP. It’s too much, too much too much he can’t listen to Jack ripping out his every fear and vulnerable terror again it’s too much-

_You saw me though._

But Jack hadn’t been laying out Pitch’s fears. There were his own.

_I didn’t get why you let me follow you around all the time._

Jack had been a distraction! Something to bide the time with and talk at but he knew he KNEW.

_I got it when I saw someone walk through you and your face looked the same way I always felt._

Pitch feels like everything between his ribs is being slowly dragged out, twisted and yanked until nothing is left and Jack knows he knows what that is. 

Pitch had always known that Jack was lonely, that Jack wasn’t believed in. But he figured such a young thing wouldn’t understand the crushing desperation that comes from real loneliness.

Jack was young and bright and too full of laughter and he shouldn’t be able to feel the same way Pitch did. He COULDN’T know what that felt like!

_-the same way I always felt..._

“It doesn’t matter!” He finally snarls. “He’s gone! And it’s for the best! He’s certainly not showing his face again after all of that! And I’m glad!” He snaps when Onyx simply keeps her brilliant eyes on him. “I can’t- I can’t have that around!”

His hands slowly drop from his head, going back to Onyx’s thick neck and he spreads his fingers over the corded sand and shadow, his voice going softer. “It’d be too much. It’s better...better if he is gone. I’m made to be on my own. It’s enough, just knowing that someone else is feeling this. I don’t want it magnified by him being here.”

He lets out a long, low breath, the tightness in him melting away with it and leaving him feeling loose and worn and empty. “He’s gone, and it’s far better this way.” He says, listening hard to how the words sound so he can remember them.

“Far better.” He repeats.

He rolls his shoulders, squares them to keep going as he always has. Soon this will be a memory, one of many that-

There’s a brush of cold on the back of his neck. 

He sucks in cold air and feels everything tighten up again. Jack wouldn't come back. It didn't matter what he had said he wouldn't come back after-

"What is wrong with you?! Did you just wake up today and go 'I think this is a day for making stupid decisions'?! You can't just LEAVE! How old are you again?"

He turns slowly, feeling coiled and tense and Jack is there. He's glaring and clutching his staff in a white knuckled fist. The air is crackling with his anger, but he's right there.

Pitch's hands clench and unclench at his sides; he's suddenly unsure what to do with them. There's too much energy thrumming through him and it’s paralyzing even though he feels jittery all over. He can only follow Jack with his eyes as the boy begins pacing in front of him.

"I mean, that wasn't easy back there ok? And you just took off! Yeah great thanks for not stealing anything but you seriously just decided that the best way to end a conversation was to leave?! This is you! You're really good at the talking! So why all this sulking silence and-” Jack stops and throws his hands up in exasperation, “What now!? What is with that face?!"

Pitch blinks, he hadn't been aware that his face was doing anything in particular. He gets the feeling he should answer quickly if he doesn't want to make Jack more angry.

And why should he care if this child is angry at him?

"You came back." He says, then mentally kicks himself. Of course he's back, he's right there! "I meant...why did you come back?"

"Did you not want me to?"

Pitch opens his mouth to say 'yes' then shuts it. That...is a dangerous question.

There's something vulnerable in Jack's eyes as he stares at Pitch expectantly, a longing that's hard to look away from.

"I don't know." He says quietly. "I thought I didn't, but I am...not sure now."

Jack barks out a tired, worn laugh and runs a hand over his face. Pitch doesn't like that laugh, it doesn't suit Jack. "Yeah, well, that makes two of us I guess. You're ridiculous you know that?"

"But you came back." Pitch is still having trouble processing that. There’s no reason for Jack to come back and nothing is explaining it.

Jack looks up at him for a few seconds, then gives a small, tentative smile like he had back at the Tooth Palace. "Yeah, I did."

Pitch’s skin feels too tight for his body, the air is thin and cold and that doesn’t explain anything it doesn’t explain why Jack is HERE. He’s standing there small and slight and nothing but elbows and knees and a determined stare hiding underneath a small easy smile. 

How had Pitch never noticed how small the boy was? Jack is such a tiny thing but somehow he’s taking up the entire world right now and refuses to leave.

His hands feel tense again and he can’t stop them from clenching and unclenching in quick spasms. He should say something, but for once he has no idea what to say to this. It’s like he’d never actually SEEN Jack in all the years the boy has been hovering around him.

There’s the tight grip on his staff, the way his fingers will shift and turn white as he waits nervously for Pitch to do something besides stare. There’s the small curl of his mouth full of hope and just a touch of fear and who shows fear in a smile? Fear of rejection fear of being cast out fear of being alone all in the lift of the corners of small lips and the tired smudges underneath wide blue eyes.

It’s too much. All of it is too much. Those eyes and that smile are more than Pitch can tolerate right now. Jack is more than he can tolerate. Pitch doesn’t know how much more he can stand it, seeing all of his own fears and hurt shining out of that smile and captured in gripping hands and tired, lonely blue eyes. 

His hands itch at his sides, he wants to reach out and- and do SOMETHING. He wants to shake Jack, throw him. Grab those thin and tiny shoulders and demand to know where Jack came from, where he got the GALL to trap Pitch’s pain in his own eyes.

He needs to leave. He needs to get away from that smile. He steps back and phases into the shadow, ignoring Jacks startled yell of “Oh come on!”

Something about losing physical form calms him, dulls the sharp panic in his chest and makes his head feel more clear. “I need to think.” He says, congratulating himself on how calm and even he sounds. “You are welcome to stay in the meantime, if you wish.”

Jack looks incredulous. “Oh! That’s good to know! Thank you ever so much! And where the hell are you running off to this time?”

He doesn’t dignify that with an answer, instead he sinks deeper into the shadows until he’s far away from that small and demanding presence. He doesn’t step back out onto solid stone until he can’t feel the cold that follows Jack everywhere.

He’s in a dark desolate pit in his home. This is the place where the deeper Nightmares dwell. It’s full of hissing and the distant sound of something sliding over water and stone. It’s inky black and the air reeks of distant horrors beyond the world and it’s perfect.

He stays there for two weeks.

He wouldn’t say he was avoiding Jack per se, he just needs to...think things through on his own. Needs to prepare himself for that ice blue stare again.

Jack isn’t there when he comes back up to the central cavern. Pitch feels both elated and strangely empty when he realizes the boy is absent. There’s a weight lifted from his shoulders but he still finds himself wandering around looking for something.

The odd conflict ends quickly when a breeze announces Jack’s return.

He swoops in from the tunnels in a rush of laughter and snow and wind, elated still from whatever he had been getting up to on the surface. The crawling feeling comes back and only escalates when Jack notices him and gives him a wave with raised eyebrows.

Pitch raises his own hand absently, watching to see if he can spot the pain in Jacks face that had been there earlier. There’s a strange anticipation as he keeps his eyes on Jack, both dreading and looking for that glimpse of emptiness.

He steps back into shadows as Jack lands, he may be willing to watch Jack, but the idea of talking to him again makes his skin crawl.

Jack simply blinks, then shakes his head with an irritated huff as he flies up to perch on one of the cages. 

 

It had been there, for just a second the spark in his eyes had dimmed just enough for Pitch to see the loneliness there.

Pitch spends a whole new week just watching for glimpses of that blank hollowness. It’s unnerving, seeing himself in something as bright as Jack. He stays in the shadows, stays out of sight while he follows the boy whenever he’s in the lair. 

Jack is always doing something when he’s not out; covering stone archways with decorative frost patterns, chasing nightmares, and, on a few strange occasions, talking into the air as if Pitch is next to him.

“I had another kid see me today.”

Jack is sitting on one of the larger cages again, while Pitch stays in the shadow underneath. It’s fascinating, hearing him talk to nothing at all.

“Apparently his mom had told him stories about me. Said he needs to wear his scarf or Jack Frost would nip his nose off.” He laughs at that, a short, cheery noise that is completely out of place in the dark. “He was in a panic at first! Really thought I was going to take his nose! I was tempted to make a few grabs for it, I dunno, maybe you can give him some nightmares about that later.”

Pitch snorts to himself at that, as if he would personally make such a trivial nightmare. He goes quiet again when Jack continues.

“There’s a few more of them every winter you know. I mean, just one or two. And no one can decide if I’m a lovable fun loving spirit or some horrible trickster.” There’s another laugh at that. “I don’t see why I can’t be both!”

Both do fit the boy well.

“I just...you’re still pretty stupid. And I don’t know what has been with you lately. But...thanks. You know what for.”

Pitch steps out from the shadows onto the cage, not really knowing why. There are a lot of things he doesn’t know lately. He doesn’t know why the sight of this small frail thing makes his hands claw at his sides and makes him want to tear out of his own skin. He doesn’t know how he never saw how often the boy looks like he can barely stand from the crushing loneliness that still clings to him, despite the slowly growing pool of belief.

He doesn’t know why he still has the golden box with Jack’s name on it. Doesn’t know why he keeps pulling it out to run his fingers over the engraving as if it’ll give up it’s secrets with a touch. When he isn’t holding it the box is a constant weight against his side, burning cold against him wherever he goes.

He doesn’t know why Jack keeps coming back every day.

“Why are you still here?”

Jack starts so hard that he nearly falls off the cage. He grasps the bars beneath him and whips his head around until he sees where Pitch is standing by the heavy chain that holds it up. The boy’s eyes light up instantly.

“Hey! There you are!”

“Why. Are you. Still here?” Pitch repeats carefully. He needs Jack to understand how important this is.

Jack’s smile fades, eyes dimming and his expression closing off. “Do...you want me to leave?”

Yes. No. Don’t ask that. 

“That wasn’t what I was asking.” Is what Pitch settles on. “I want to know why you keep coming back here.”

Jack’s eyes slide away and he plays with the edge of his cloak. “I wonder that sometimes.” He admits slowly. “I guess...” he shrugs, looking back at Pitch with that empty look, “I guess I don’t really have anything else.”

_Niether of us do._ Pitch thinks. 

And the clawing is back, the near panic welling up in his chest and the air is too cold and too sharp in his lungs. He steps back into shadow, needing to get away from Jack before...he doesn’t know what. 

He’s tired of not knowing things.

But he does know now that Jack needs to leave. 

Pitch still can’t look at the boy without the air leaving him and his hands tensing and tightening. It hasn’t gotten any better, if anything Pitch is seeing more and more of that aching in Jack’s eyes that he knows too well. 

He doesn’t like facing his own loneliness and he certainly doesn’t want to keep seeing it reflected in the boy.

So Jack needs to leave. Needs to stop tormenting Pitch with that mix of a bright smile and tired eyes. And it shouldn’t be hard, all he has to do is TELL Jack to leave.

Which seems to be easier said than done. Whenever he tries the words choke up in his throat and catch on each other. Leaving him babbling through something else and hurrying away, ignoring the confused furrow to Jacks brow.

He needs to give Jack a reason to leave. 

It only takes him a few days to find a solution. Really he should have thought of this weeks ago. 

The box is heavy and cold as he slowly pulls it out.

Jack’s memories. 

_I guess I don’t really have anything else._

This would be something. If Jack knew who he had been he would perhaps find his purpose. He’d have that and he would leave Pitch alone.

Things could go...back to how they were.

He clenches his fingers on the box, forcing down the slight tremor in his hands as he goes to find Jack. There’s no reason for him to keep this little trinket anyway. Such a sentimental thing is useless to him.

Jack is splayed out on the thick stone rail of one of the bridges this time, twirling his staff idly as one leg hangs swinging over the edge. He looks very much at home where he is.

He needs to leave.

“Jack.”

Jack doesn’t jump this time, just turns his head slightly towards Pitch and raises his eyebrows.

“Well look who it is! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I felt...” Pitch pauses, he’s not really sure how to bring this up so out of the blue. “You should know that I did not come away from the Tooth Palace completely empty handed.”

Jack stops twirling his staff and sits up carefully. “Okay...” He says, giving Pitch an odd look, “and you’re telling me this because...?”

Pitch turns the box awkwardly in his hands. “You...I found this. It’s yours.”

Jack freezes, almost literally, the stone under him frosting over as his eyes harden. “No it isn’t.”

“I can assure you that it is.”

“You said those things were memories. Human memories. I came from a lake remember? I don’t have one of those things. Can’t lose your childhood teeth if you were never a child, Pitch.”

Pitch frowns and slowly turns the box so the name is facing Jack. “You were someone else. You may not be human now but at one point...you had something.”

Jack is still and quiet as he stares at the name. He looks like he’s been punched through and left broken. His whole body shakes as he slowly stands and takes a careful step forward, eyes on the simple engraving.

“That...that’s my name. I...how?”

Pitch doesn’t say anything, gripping the box to keep himself centered. Jack’s eyes are shining and he isn’t quite at tears but it’s so close. There’s a sharp spike of fear in the air that leaves Pitch feeling like he’s drowning.

Jack puts a hand out so, so slowly, and Pitch can see how his fingers are trembling.

“I...I had a family? I had a home?”

Pitch has to fight the urge to pull the box out of Jack’s reach. “I don’t know. You were just someone before you were this. Most of our kind were someone before being called to what we are now.”

Jack pauses then, looking up at him. “You said you didn’t have any memories either.”

“I’m an exception. Fear simply is. I was here before anything else and always will be.”

“How do you know? Maybe you were-”

“I wasn’t anything!” Pitch snaps, shoving the box a little bit towards Jack. “But you were!”

Jacks eyes dart from Pitch back to the box and he reaches for it haltingly. He gasps like he’s physically hurt when he finally touches it and Pitch yanks his hands away as soon as he’s sure Jack has a grip on it. 

He then takes several steps back, needing to put some distance between himself and the still shivering boy.

“You should be able to open it, though I couldn’t tell you how. You’ll have to figure that part out on your own.”

“Yeah.” Jack says distantly, running his hands over the edges and contours of the small golden container. “Yeah....okay...I’m...I’m going to just...go and...”

_Leave._ Pitch thinks. _Go and leave. Stop haunting me._

Jack looks up at him, eyes wide and shining. He looks impossibly small and fragile as he clutches the box to his chest. “Pitch, I just, thanks. You didn’t have to....I don’t know why you keep-”

“Go.” Pitch grits out. His hands feel empty without the box to clutch onto and he can feel the space where it used to lay within his robe.

Jack nods, a quick jerk of his head then pauses for only a few more minutes. It looks like he wants to say something more and Pitch can only sigh in relief when he turns and flies out instead. Jack rushes away with a blast of cold air and a flurry of tiny snowflakes.

And that’s that.

Pitch stands there for a while afterwards, watching the tunnels and feeling the air grow warm. He feels lighter, yet hollowed out.

"It certainly has been...interesting." He says to the air. Jack had at least made the past few decades less boring. The memories would be pleasant and he wouldn't have to see that pain in Jack's smile anymore.

It was enough, knowing that that pain existed in someone else without having it right in front of him.

"Farewell, Jack Frost." He says quietly, turning back to the shadows and ignoring the yellow brimstone eyes watching him from the darkness. 

This is for the best.

 

 

An hour later and he’s wandering the shadows aimlessly, firmly not thinking about anything.

After two hours he feels the same crawling feeling begin to return. It’s something like paranoia, the sick twisting in him. It’s not as bad as when Jack was here though, so he ignores it.

Three hours since Jack left and it’s gotten worse.

It takes four hours for him to start having second thoughts. The air is still and warm and he doesn't recall it ever feeling so thick and oppressive. He's jumping at every sound that echos through the stone arches and wide caverns. Even the clank of the cages as they settle on their chains has him looking up, half expecting to see snowflakes or a shock of white hair.

The place where the box used to rest within his robe burns and Pitch keeps putting his hand there when he's not paying attention. He should have found another way to get Jack to leave. The boy is gone and Pitch doesn't have anything left of him. Even the frost that Jack left on the bridge has melted into a puddle that's rapidly drying.

After five hours Pitch begins pacing. The nervous energy is back, only it's undirected and manic now. He can't stop his fingers from tapping against each other as he walks back and forth around his globe. 

In the past he’d had to chase Jack off of the sphere numerous times. The boy never really respected what the globe meant. Though there hadn't been much that Jack respected in general.

There’s a flash of yellow and he’s pulled from his thoughts when he sees Onyx watching him through the globe, eyes burning.

“Shut up.” He growls. She snorts and tosses her head and walks around to butt his shoulder.

Six hours.

He’s had enough of skulking about down here. Too long sitting with his own thoughts and oppressive silence. He continues watching the world turn as he runs a hand over Onyx’s shoulder.

“Let’s ride tonight. It’s been far too long since I’ve accompanied you my dear.” He gets another snort at that and smiles slightly as he strokes her nose.

“Go on, I’ll meet you up there. And gather the others.” He grins, slow and predatory, “We’re going to make it a rough night.”

She tosses her head, rears and rushes off in a wild scream of writhing shadow. He watches her go with a fond smile and begins heading towards the tunnels.

This is what he needs. A night of doing what he does best, feeling the rush of terror in the air and if they find the right mind to dig into, perhaps it will almost be like the old days.

He pools into the shadows, sliding along the dripping tunnels and smiling at the distant shrieks of the gathering Nightmares.

It will be alright. 

Jack may be gone, but Pitch will continue as he always has.

He takes a moment to hiss softly at the bright and full moon when he slides out from under the broken and withered bedframe. His old friend simply shines down, watching as always, the old fool. Pitch is so caught up glaring at him that he almost falls over when he finally turns and-

Jack.

Jack is there.

Jack is perched up on one of the bed posts, staff leaning next to him while he crouches like a gargoyle, elbows on his knees and looking intently at the little box.

Jack is...he’s there. He shouldn’t be there. 

Just like that all the air leaves Pitch’s lungs again and he feels like he should say something but Jack is THERE. All his words are tangling over each other and leaving him with his mouth open grasping at something to say.

He had been so sure that Jack would leave after getting his memories that he never prepared himself for any alternative.

“Hey...” Jack says softly, without looking up. “Surprised you’re out and about with the Old Man at full blast.”

Pitch swallows past the panic welling up in his throat and steps up to stand next to the boy, looking down at the box in his hand.

“Have you..?”

“Yeah.” Jack says, and Pitch can see just the edge of a small, tired smile. He suddenly wants to make Jack look up so he can see all of it. From here he can just see the hints of pain and sorrow and joy caught in it and wants to know how the boy can say so much with a smile. He’s shaken from his thoughts when Jack continues.

“I had a sister...” His voice is strangely hoarse, with an echo of what could be a laugh hiding under it. “Well, I had the rest of a family too. A mom and everything...but all the best memories were of my sister.” 

Jack does look up at him then, and Pitch takes back his earlier thoughts about wanting to see that smile. It’s quavering and blinding and the light is catching wetness right at the corner of Jacks eyes. Pitch has to look away from that as Jack goes on.

“I saved her!” His voice gets a distant wonder to it, like he’s still riding the adrenaline rush from the memory. “That’s how...she was so scared and I saved her...I’m glad that was the last thing I did. Though I guess you wouldn’t really get that.” Jack laughs at that. “Sorry for making someone less scared.”

“You’re still here.”

Jack doesn’t look closed off and hurt like he had before when Pitch asked why he was here. Pitch doesn’t quite know what Jack’s face means, but it’s calm and considering.

“Do you want me to leave?”

That question again. That very dangerous question that Pitch was sure he already answered. Jack says it more surely now. It isn’t a quiet, nervous and scared anymore. Now Jack’s stare is a challenge.

Pitch meets it, feels like he won’t be able to breathe ever again.

“No.”

Jack nods, then grins brightly at him. “Alright then. You’re stuck with me now!”

Pitch barely manages to stomp down the nearly hysterical laugh he feels building up.

_You don’t know what you’ve done. You’ve doomed us you foolish boy!_

Pitch’s lungs are on fire and he sucks air deep through his nose, barely managing to keep calm on the surface despite the maelstrom within him.

_You should have left while you had the chance. You can’t now. I can’t let you. Not after this. You can’t leave. And it’s too late now. Too late for both of us._

He clenches his hands tight behind his back, feeling raw and exposed and like he just sealed his own end.

Jack keeps smiling brilliant and blinding and Pitch can only think...

_Mine._


End file.
